


Day By Day

by deathwailart



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Healing, Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda and Shepard after the war - it's not perfect, in fact some days it's downright awful, but they'll get there in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day By Day

This isn't how she thought her life would be but that's a recurring theme so maybe she shouldn't be surprised – free of her father, willingly cutting ties with Shepard, Oriana safe and part of her life, Shepard, no, _Perdita_ warm and in her bed. Being able to ask for help really wasn't a bad thing in hindsight.  
  
"'Randa?" Perdita blinks awake slowly, rubbing a hand over her face, her scars – some of them aren't going to heal this time but here Perdita is, warm and alive and in her bed – glinting red in the dark, her long dark hair a messy tangle.  
  
"Go back to sleep," she murmurs, stroking Perdita's hair as best she can as she makes herself more comfortable. "There's nothing to worry about."  
  
"You're thinking," Perdita continues and Miranda has to laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple where a node of circuitry shines through her pale skin.  
  
"Is that a bad thing? I thought you admired my mind as much as anything else."  
  
"Time to sleep, s'late. No more thinking."  
  
"Is that an order commander?"  
  
Perdita shifts to sit up a little further, tugging Miranda close. "Want me to make it one?"  
  
"Maybe in the morning," she agrees – as nice as the thought is, she's tired and it's late and they're supposed to be having lunch tomorrow with Oriana anyway.  
  
"Haven't you spent enough time watching me sleep? I'm not that interesting."  
  
Miranda silences her with a kiss and tugs the covers back up and over them as she tucks Perdita's head beneath her chin.  
  
If there's a promise of a slow and easy morning, Miranda takes it. She spent weeks and months after the war by Perdita's bedside after they'd recovered here, organising whoever she could find, checking treatment programs, digging out every scrap she could still get her hands on from the Lazarus Project. Holding Perdita's hand when she could, cursing that this time it was harder – there wouldn't be a second resurrection and Perdita was still alive in there, covered in bandages and medigel, the best post-war surgeons doing what they could. Oriana joining her or dragging her away either to shower, eat and sleep or throwing some sort of work to do with makeshift housing and the distribution of supplies to people who needed them. The Normandy crew had filtered back and she had to share the restricted visiting hours but it had been okay. They'd brought her things, they'd talked about what she'd missed, how things were going, told her that Perdita was a fighter, that she'd pull through.  
  
And she did. Months of rehab, scars that aren't going to go away this time, a few more enhancements. She's not like she was before. Her biotics still need work but Perdita isn't in any rush. Like this morning where she burrows closer, cold nose to the back of Miranda's neck and arm around her waist. Miranda knows that eventually they'll share a shower and have breakfast (coffee and orange juice and pancakes because Perdita makes amazing pancakes, fluffy and golden and just what everyone with a biotic's appetite needs) and go do some work. Working with Oriana in colony development isn't exactly the career she thought about post-Cerberus but people need places to live and it's still temporary. Temporary being years though with so much to be rebuilt, with so much _change_ and after the amount of eezo in the atmosphere of so many planets, there's a boom of biotics that she knows will only multiply when they get older. So sometimes she finds herself teaching some of the kids on their second lot of exposure and sometimes Perdita's there too, relearning old things.  
  
It's not perfect. She can see the frustration Perdita carries around some days with her – not being able to move the way she used to because her whole left leg is cybernetic and it's going to take a long time to get used to that. She gets headaches from too much loud noise and bright light – Kaidan helps with that, teaches her what to do, sends almost the same emails to Miranda because he gets it, gets the frustration and he knows Perdita is stubborn enough to try to just carry on. There are aches and pains nothing gets rid of and those days Miranda feels helpless and they argue on those days if Miranda hovers, offering medicine and backrubs and baths or showers. Miranda storms out to Ori, has a drink, cries because she doesn't think she has a right to cry in front of Perdita but always goes back and they cry together and laugh because what a sorry couple of space divas. The bad days are still enough to be noticed, sometimes they outnumber the good on any given month but the panic attacks and nightmares are slowly subsiding which is why she never wants to get out of bed until Perdita is awake and aware.  
  
She'll never forget the screams she heard that first time she got up to make breakfast and Perdita was back there, curled in on herself, shaking and sweating. She almost had to call for a doctor to help.  
  
But they have a routine. A life.  
  
"Hey," Perdita murmurs at last, yawning and stretching. "Everything okay? I know you were awake last night."  
  
"Morning," Miranda replies, carefully rolling over to kiss Perdita's cheek, pushing dark hair away from her face as she traces her fingers over glowing scars. "And before you ask, no you didn't wake me, no nightmares, no flailing around." Perdita smiles at that, ducking her head to hide it. One day Miranda hopes she won't be embarrassed about the nightmares, about things that are understandable and that can't be helped. Miranda has nightmares too, not often but now and then and Perdita is there for her the whole time.  "Just thinking, honest."  
  
"Yeah? What about?"  
  
"Maybe taking a trip somewhere – I'm sure we've earned some time off. Go check in on some friends, see how rebuilding is going elsewhere in person." Maybe it's sneaky to suggest it in the warmth and safety of their bed when Perdita is still so sleepy that she's yawning and rubbing her eyes but she has been thinking about it, on and off. Carefully she wipes her palms on her thighs and hopes that her nervousness won't be picked up on right away.  
  
"Really?" Perdita asks, sitting up carefully, partly because she's stiff in the mornings, partly because she looks suspicious.  
  
"I'm not saying we go on some tour but I'd like to go see Jacob and Brynn, meet little Hackett in person again. Stop by Tuchanka to impress baby krogan." Miranda gets up as she talks because she can seem more casual about it as she gets dressed. "I know you're uncomfortable with people always shoving a damn camera in your face and I don't want to push you, if you don't-"  
  
"I know I've been hiding here Miranda. You don't have to tiptoe around it," Perdita interrupts, wobbling a little like she always does getting up, grabbing her faded hoodie that seems to function like the armour she hasn't worn since they cut her out of it on the Normandy en route to the nearest place with any functioning medical facilities. "I miss it. The Normandy. Everything."  
  
The Reapers may be gone but Miranda feels an almost forgotten surge of hate towards them for taking away so much not just from the galaxy but from Perdita.  
  
"Maybe we could go to Rannoch too," Perdita adds softly and Miranda smiles at her.  
  
"I hear the rebuilding's going well there. Tali did say we were welcome any time we wanted to drop by."  
  
"Breakfast then? With planning? You buttering up Oriana for time off?"  
  
Miranda plays along even though Oriana is likely to book the whole thing herself for them and it's just talk, just silly fleeting things and maybe later Perdita won't want to go but it's a start, another little step in reclaiming bits of their old life and starting a new one together without war and death and fear. Miranda's learned to be thankful and grateful for all that she has, the confidence to shrug off her past and to step forward without having to look over her shoulder. She'll get Perdita there too, one day at a time.


End file.
